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WTE_OzWolf
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Australia
Sep 2001
time: 05:20
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Well, it's been a while, but I've finally returned and here is a quick ***-bit for the continuation:
The Rescue
The days and nights had melded into one. For Joan de Arc, the darkness of the Berlin dungeons was her only companion. General la Fayette had taken great pride in telling her that Joan's direct descendents had been imprisoned in the very same cell so many centuries ago during the last war for the throne. Like she had done so many times before, Joan sighed a bone-weary sigh and shifted position to try and relieve the soreness from lying on stones in one place for too long.
Joan ran her hand through the mop of unkempt brown hair that had grown while left to rot in her cell. She had always kept her head bald for the sake of maintenance, but that was now impossible. She felt something crawl through her hair and quickly withdrew her hand in disgust.
Her first weeks in the dungeon had been spent trying to find out what was going on from the guards, General la Fayette, even Bismark when he decided to come and crow about his victory. She had a vague idea about what was going on, but everybody seemed content to keep her in the dark, both literally and figuratively speaking.
There was no chance of escape from the prison, not unassisted anyway. The Berlin dungeons were well below ground, far away from light and with only one entrance and exit. Her path to freedom would be short, brutal and ultimately end in death. So, instead of contemplating escape, she mentally set about trying to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of what was going on.
The biggest piece she had was the reference Bismark had made to la Fayette just before she'd blacked out. 'Welcome back to the French-Germans.' he had said, or as they were more commonly called, the Franco-Germans. The name seemed ridiculous, a hodge-podge of two names just rammed together to make one. But it was the lynch pin for her current predicament and she needed to build the puzzle around it to find her solution.
For some reason, a lot of people, both French and Germans, had strong, patriotic ties to the Franco-Germans. The fact that nearly her entire army had defected to this new clan gave testament to that. Apparently Bismark had an equally strong army outside of Berlin waiting in case the French contingent failed in their bid to liberate the city.
But exactly what were the origins of the Franco-Germans? How long had they existed in the dark, and why did Bismark make reference to the effect that la Fayette had effectively left the Franco-Germans before. General la Fayette was French born-and-bred. Joan, like any good clan leader, kept close tabs on her high ranking personnel. Obviously not close enough. She thought ironically.
Joan's thoughts and musings where interrupted by the sound of the cell door opening. With next to no light, she couldn't see it being opened or who was stepping through. That's when it struck her that this was unusual. Guards always carried torches. Either this person was a friend or Bismark and la Fayette had decided to remove her altogether.
"M'lady Joan de Arc." A voice said from the darkness. Though spoken in French, the voice was thick with the guttural accent of the Germans. "We are here to take you far from this wretched place."
Joan looked skeptically into the dark.
"Why would a German want to do that?" She asked back, wishing she could see her visitors in the dark.
"Because France and Germany were never meant to be one." A second, more refined voice said from behind the location of the first. "Come, you must trust me Lady de Arc. We do not have much time before Franco-German loyalist guards discover their unconscious comrades."
Throwing caution to the wind, Joan climbed to her feet and headed for the door.
"A cloak to cover you." The first voice said, matching actions to words and draping a cloak over her head.
"Is is night or day?" Joan asked as they headed quickly for the exit.
First voice chuckled.
"Night of course, m'lady." He said. "When else would we try a prison break?"
The door opened before them and Joan faltered.
"Do not panic, Lady de Arc." Voice two said. "These guards are our own. Two of us would not have over powered the prison alone."
Passing through the open door, even the moonlit night was harsh to Joan's eyes and she had to half-cover them. Her rescuers guided her up the steps at a quick pace to a waiting carriage. Once she was inside, it moved off, the foot soldiers falling into a quick jog alongside it.
As the carriage moved through Berlin, the foot soldiers slowly fell away until the carriage was on its own as it left the city. Her companions remained quiet, their cloaks still covering their faces. Finally, Joan could not hold on any longer.
"Who are you?" She asked.
The person opposite her, who Joan had tentatively identified as Voice Two, pulled the hood from his head. The face that stared back at her caused Joan to suck in a breath through clenched teeth.
"You look like..." She began.
"...like King Frederick?" The man replied. "I would hope so. I am Prince Frederick the Third, son of King Frederick II and rightful heir to the throne."
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WTE_OzWolf
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Australia
Sep 2001
time: 05:20
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The Rescue - Continued
Prince Frederick felt a rare touch of genuine amusement as he watched first incomprehension, then bewilderment then suspicion cross Joan's face.
"If you are the King's son, why do you not sit upon the throne of the Great Kingdom?" Joan asked, risking a sideways glance at their other passenger.
The flicker of amusement Frederick felt vanished quickly.
"I have my cousin to thank for that." Frederick said. "Upon my birth, Bismarksecreted me away and killed my mother. He then informed my father that both mother and child had died during birth. The King remarried, but they never gave him anymore children."
"How do you know this?" Joan queried.
"I can answer that." The other German said, removing his hood for the first time. Joan recoiled in horror.
"Do not be alarmed Lady de Arc." Frederick said. "Though Richter here was Chief of Counsel to my father, he is not the man you think he is."
"But he is credited with the murder of over a thousand Frenchmen during the Island Wars." Joan said, trying to keep the disgust out of her voice.
"That and many internal criminal acts were committed by Bismark." Frederick explained. "He simply pinned them on Richter. My father apparently put great value in the voice of Bismark, much to his demise."
Joan turned to Richter Von Hoffen, once Chief of Counsel to King Frederick II.
"Why did you not leave? Why be pinned with such a reputation." She asked.
"Two things." Richter replied. "First, my loyalty to the King. I knew Bismark was planning something and I could do my best to protect him while alongside the King. Secondly, Bismark had threatened my family if I told the truth."
"Looks like you failed to save the King." Joan retorted, her disgust and anger still simmering. Richter's head dropped.
"And my family." He responded. "Bismark had them killed the instant he didn't need to lie to the King anymore."
His head rose defiantly.
"That is why I am here." He said, his voice growing in strength. "To put to right what is wrong. I found where Bismark had placed young Frederick and told him the truth."
Joan looked at Frederick and felt the full impact of the conversation hit her.
"Bismark must have been planning this for years." She said, sitting back. "How did he kill the king?"
"We do not know if Bismark had the king killed." Frederick said. "It appears that he died of natural causes, but many poisons can do the same thing."
"What are your intentions?" Joan asked, her suspicion coming to the fore again.
"I intend to put the rightful person on the throne." Richter said.
"The French might have something to say about that." Joan retorted.
"My dear Joan." Frederick said, speaking for the first time in a while. "I have no intention of ruling the Great Kingdom on my own. Richter was referring to the German throne."
"By law, the rightful heir to the German throne is the rightful heir to the Great Kingdom." Joan said. "We have such laws to ensure stability."
Frederick chuckled dryly.
"And how they have worked." He said. "No, you are right. However, my first act as King will be to restructure those laws. I intend for the Great Kingdom to be ruled by a council of eight. Each leader of the eight Great Kingdom clans will have an equal position on the council."
"A lofty goal." Joan said. "But one that may never be achieved. I doubt Bismark, with his years of scheming, will be so ready to abducate to you and the Persians and Greeks make a formidable team..."
Frederick raised his hand.
"I'm afraid you've been out of the loop, Lady de Arc." Frederick said. "The Greeks turned on the Persians, allied with the English and captured Prince Xerses. The Greek-English alliance now has the Persian army under their control."
Joan looked shocked. The Persians had always provided the bulk of the Great Kingdom's armies and with an enemy alliance in control of them, the possibilities were too disastrous to think about.
"What of the other factions?" She asked in a whisper.
"The Americans have been annexed by the English while the Romans and Egyptians continue to whisper in each other's ears in the south. Neither of them have made a move yet." Richter explained.
Joan closed her eyes. A month, maybe two, locked away and the world had turned on its head. She focused on a question that had been bothering her in that time.
"What are the Franco-Germans?" She asked the two men.
Richter and Frederick looked at each other. The Prince nodded once.
"We were as mystified about the emergence of a Fraco-German clan as most of the rest of the Kingdom was. We had to delve quite deeply into records stored in hidden vaults throughout the kingdom until we were finally able to piece together the entire story." Richter said. "It is no wonder they were never heard of before. No one clan has enough information to be able to deduct the full story."
Joan listenend intently. Finally her question was about to be answered.
"Over two thousand years ago, there was a clan called the Franons. In those days, they were a large clan. This was before the days of the Great Kingdom mind you, so the individual clans basically kept to themselves unless necessity dictated otherwise." Richter continued. "However, two distinct factions began to develope within the clan. The Franc's and the Germons. They may have been called something else in those days, but they are recorded as those two factions. Anyway, over time, these two factions began to make serious attempts to take control of the Franon clan. Eventually, after many years of covert attacks, the Germon faction deployed a fully equipped army and took the Franon clan by force.
"Over time, the Francs became the French. How or when is unknown to us. But another interesting thing came up. How long have you mistrusted the English, Joan?"
"Since I could understand my parents." Joan said, looking puzzled.
"Yes, you see, the Germons were equipped by the English, Joan. They basically gave the Franon clan to the Germon faction in exchange for a number of favours no doubt. The Francs, now the French, never trusted the English again." Richter explained.
"But this does not explain the Franco-Germans." Joan pointed out.
"Yes, I was getting to that." Richter said. "During the clan's in-fighting. A small, Franon loyalist faction remained. They tried hard to reunite the clan but to no avail. They made numerous attempts during the years over which the clan divided itself into two."
"What is la Fayette's role in all of this?" Joan asked.
"There were two families who lead the Franon loyalists. Some reports state that is was for the love of the clan, others state that it was for their own personal gain." Frederick chimed in. "And the two families were..."
"...the la Fayettes and the Bismarks." Joan finished for him, it all clicking into place. "I suppose when the loyalist faction realised they couldn't achieve their goals one family joined the French, the others the Germans."
"Exactly." Frederick replied. "So as you can see, the plan has been in motion for hundreds of years. But their values are no longer suitable."
"I agree." Joan replied. "The French and the Germans have long since become independent clans. We have our own identities."
"That's right." Richter said. "But having harboured ill feelings for nearly two millenia means the Franco-German threat is very real and very dangerous."
"How do you intend to counter it?" Joan said.
"With you." Frederick said, gesturing outside the carriage.
While they had been talking, the carriage had moved out into the deep countryside. A large encampment was on the horizon.
"You're going to use me?" Joan asked, looking at the tents and pallisades as they drew nearer. "How do you intend to do that?"
"Quite simply, Lady de Arc." Frederick said. "With the French army."
The carriage passed through gates at the front of the encampment and Joan's mouth dropped open in wonder. Before her was a sight she had never thought to see...French and German soldiers training together. Frederick looked directly at her.
"The loyalist French forces have pledged their allegiance to us in exchange for your rescue." He said. "We've upheld our part of the bargain. Joan, will you lead the French and German Alliance into battle?"
Joans eyes turned steely cold.
"Frederick, it will be my honour to wipe our clans' long lost enemy from the face of the Great Kingdom."
Frederick nodded.
"Good, let's go view your troops."
Last edited by WTE_OzWolf on 02-05-2003 at 11:00
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EQandCivfanatic
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finally! keep it up
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02-05-2003 04:22
(check your 1st post)
(oh this is a really bad obscure Wayne's World reference; not that I thought your depiction was bad). I enjoyed the prison scene more than the dialogue parts, but this has always been a cool story so keep going!
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